


Alas, Poor Morality

by NamelesslyNightlock, Rabentochter



Series: This Was A Bad Idea (but we know what we're doing) [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (for Tony and Loki anyway), BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Betrayal, Blood, Character Death, Dark, Dark Loki (Marvel), Dark Tony Stark, Established Relationship, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Happy Ending, Inspired by Hamlet, Kissing, M/M, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Revenge, Sadism, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Violence, not wanda maximoff friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 04:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20829476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: When the Avengers found out about Tony and Loki, they made a big mistake– and it’ll be the last thing they ever do.





	Alas, Poor Morality

**Author's Note:**

> <s>So maybe we're still feeling salty over Civil War.</s>  
  
As always for this series, art by **Rabentochter**, fic by **NamelesslyNightlock**.  
  
And this is a fill for both of our FI Bingo cards:  
**Rabentochter:**  
**I5**— _Betrayal (trope)._  
**NamelesslyNightlock:**  
**O3**— _Prompt: String._

The scent of iron was thick in the air, tangy and metallic. The taste of it stuck to Tony’s tongue as it darted out to wet his lips, and perhaps it should have repulsed him. Perhaps it would have, not even very long ago—

But after everything that had happened, after everything that they had done– a little blood was almost a pleasure. Still warm against his skin, though rapidly cooling and tuning sticky as it began to dry, the blood served as a reminder of what he had achieved. Even knowing whose it was didn’t bother him at all. Even though the _thought_ of any part of her touching his skin was enough to make him feel sick– it seemed that it was entirely different, now that she was dead.

He smiled as he felt a cool hand slide over the small of his back and hook around his waist, and he tilted up his head as he leaned into his lover’s chest.

“You’ve done well,” Loki crooned, his lips whispering over Tony’s ear, a tantalising touch that had a shiver going up Tony’s spine.

“It’s not enough,” Tony replied, turning his body and lifting his head a little further so he could touch his lips to Loki’s jaw, hoping that Loki would give him a little more—

And Loki, of course, obliged, leaning down to lick the blood from Tony’s lips, his hands pressing Tony closer until he had to arch his spine to keep their lips connected. Tony buried his hands in Loki’s hair and tugged at it in the exact way he knew Loki loved, their kiss turning filthy as Tony ground their hips together.

But then a low groan that wasn’t Loki’s cut through Tony’s focus– but it but only just _barely_ registered, lost in such a haze of desire as he was. But when he heard the shift of fabric over the sodden carpet, he knew that he could ignore it no longer.

His teeth tugged at Loki’s lower lip as he pulled away, and he could see in Loki’s eyes that he was annoyed– but annoyed at the interruption, not at _Tony._

“This won’t take long,” Tony promised—

And Loki’s eyes blazed with a hunger that Tony only hoped he could satisfy. “Oh,” Loki said, his voice low as his fingers shifted away from where they had slipped inside the waistband of Tony’s slacks. “I do not mind if you take your time, my Anthony.”

Tony’s lips pulled into a sadistic grin, and then he turned from his lover and looked over at the man who was trying to crawl across the floor.

He was the only one left alive, a single moving body in a sea of blood. His blue costume was so dark with it that it was almost unrecognisable, and Tony felt a visceral kind of satisfaction at the sight.

“Oh, Steve,” he said, his armour pouring fluidly out of his arc reactor as he stepped forward, the once comforting red and gold gleaming maliciously in the moonlight that streamed through the windows of Avengers Tower. “I apologise. It would seem that I’ve been neglecting you.”

Steve stopped at that, and moved into a sitting position instead– his broken leg twisted out in front of him. It was clear from his attempt at a defiant expression that he knew this was his end. He _had_ been trying to leave, but likely only out of his overdeveloped sense of stubbornness. Surely he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get far, when one of his femurs was shattered and his insides were only kept from falling over the floor by the press of his fingers against the wound inflicted by one of Loki’s daggers only minutes before.

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice a low rasp– nothing like the self-righteous preen that Tony was used to hearing. “Tony, this isn’t you, he’s _controlling—”_

“He’s not doing anything to me,” Tony hissed– and he didn’t mean to lose his cool so quickly, but he would _not_ allow anyone to say a single thing against his lover. “I am _entirely_ in control, Steve.”

Steve’s expression shuttered– but Tony knew that Steve didn’t believe him. Steve _never_ believed him.

But that was okay. Tony had Loki now, he didn’t _need_ anyone else—

And oh, how freeing that realisation had been. How utterly _liberating_ it had felt, to finally cast away the shackles that he had allowed to bind him down for far too long.

Tony knew that what he was doing was wrong, he was perfectly aware of the fact that he had snapped. The Avengers had brought this upon themselves when they had tried to break into his mind, had tried to make him do unspeakable things that would have torn him apart far _more_ than the final end result.

The mere thought of what had almost happened had Tony’s stomach pooling with rage, the fury in his veins burning so hot that it had him actually gnashing his teeth—

But then Loki was there, as he always was. He didn’t say anything– he just stepped up to stand by Tony’s side, staring at Steve with such utter contempt that it cooled even Tony’s anger.

Steve didn’t _deserve _his wrath. He wasn’t worth it.

So, instead of firing up his repulsors and blasting a hole straight through Steve’s head, Tony turned away– and he glanced down to the still warm corpse at his feet, all that was left of the witch he had killed just before Loki kissed him.

His movements were almost nonchalant as he bent down, and his gauntleted fingers curled through thick red hair. He shifted his grip as he lifted up the head, his hand coming to rest instead at the base of the severed neck so that the little blood left inside her skull dripped down between his fingers.

“Do you know what she tried to do me?” Tony asked, not even bothering to look in Steve’s direction, keeping his gaze on _her_. “Of course you do. You were the one who told her to do it.”

“She was only trying to help,” Steve gasped. “She was– trying to get _him_ out of your head—”

“She was trying to make me turn against the man that I love,” Tony said– and his voice was almost pleasant as he turned to finally grace Steve with his gaze once again. “You all should have known that it wouldn’t work.”

Steve’s breathing was heavy, shallow, his skin so pale now it was whiter than that of those who were dead. Tony had to give it to Abraham Erskine– that serum really was a true piece of art.

It might be fun, watching to see just how long Steve would last.

“We were only trying to help you,” Steve whispered.

“Friends would have supported me,” Tony said. “They would have tried to help me make it work, so that I could be _happy_. They wouldn’t have tried to brainwash me, to _use me_ to capture my love—”

“He’s dangerous, look at what he’s doing to you—”

“No,” Tony said– and he let Wanda’s head slip from his fingers as he moved closer to Steve, not even caring to watch as her skull clattered against the ground. “It’s certainly not me that you should be worried about. I am perfectly happy in Loki’s arms, and in Loki’s bed– and you… you’re nothing to me.”

That realisation was almost as liberating as the first had been, because– he’d thought that by killing Steve, by utterly _destroying_ the person who had tried to destroy _them_, Tony thought that he would be removing the last of his chains, slicing through the strings that had been tugging him along a predetermined course. But, there were no strings to remove. Not anymore. 

And Tony could see the accusation in Steve’s eyes– and he could _still_ see the disbelief. But Tony no longer felt the need to prove himself, or to try and get revenge. Steve couldn’t hurt them anymore, he was already a dead man walking – or, well, crawling, as it were – and so the only thing that _needed_ to be accomplished was already done.

And so, rather than shooting Steve in the head, or squeezing the life from his body– Tony turned on his heel and gripped the lapels of Loki’s coat. His faceplate started to recede only as he leaned in, their lips crashing together before the helmet was even entirely gone. Loki moaned and pulled him closer, the rest of the suit melting away under his hands until Tony could feel them pressing against his flesh, his suit jacket the only thing between his skin and Loki’s deft fingers—

Then the sound of a pained cry caused Tony to snarl against Loki’s lips, and he threw out his only just still gauntleted hand to fire a blast in the direction of the sound– and then, the only sounds were those of their pleasure.

“Loki,” Tony groaned, pulling away for a moment– only for Loki to lean down to kiss his throat instead, nipping and sucking as if he couldn’t get enough. “Loki—”

“Shh,” Loki whispered, his lips brushing back up over Tony’s goatee. “Don’t think about anything else. Let me show you how much I love you.” The words were accompanied with a rock of Loki’s hips, and there was _nothing_ that Tony wanted more.

The Avengers thought that Loki had been manipulating him– but Tony knew the truth. Loki’s villainous plots had calmed, because he was willing to do anything if it meant being with Tony– because the love between them was more important, more _powerful_ than anything. They were each other’s obsession, and there wasn’t a thing in the world that could tear them apart. But when the Avengers found out, the tides had turned– and their terrible mistake became their last.

“I love _you,”_ Tony swore, his breath hitching– and he reached up with one hand to cup Loki’s cheek, his thumb swiping at a drop of blood and smearing it over Loki’s creamy skin. Loki’s gaze was burning as he met Tony’s, and his skin was hot under Tony’s touch—

But as much as his body was aching to ask Loki to pull them away from the broken remains of Tony’s former team so that they could fall into their bed, there was one thing that he wanted to say first.

“Nothing is going to come between us,” Tony swore. 

“Never,” Loki promised, his hand stroking gently through Tony’s hair. Then his fingers tightened, and he pressed forward to kiss Tony again.

And with that vow mixing through the blood on their lips, sealed in a promise that would last the rest of their lives, Tony knew that so long as they had each other– then they would be able to weather whichever storm came at them next.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the art on tumblr [here](https://rabentochter.tumblr.com/post/188041047694/art-for-alas-poor-morality-written-into).


End file.
